In Just A Moment
by Immortal Apprentice
Summary: Time-travel. Hermione wasn't sure, entirely, how any of it had happened. She had been running, she knew that; they had been running for their lives. And she had tripped. It wasn't raining then, so she could not figure out why in that short moment before she met the ground that she had fallen nearly face down into very wet mud; on a very rainy day.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione wasn't sure, entirely, how any of it had happened. Looking down, brown eyes brought into focus the mud between her fingers, and she could feel the pouring rain beating on her head. As the rain made its way through her curls and down her face, Hermione could only close her eyes and try to replay all that had happened.

She had been running, she knew that; Harry, Ron and Hermione had been running for their lives. When the taboo had been activated, the Snatchers had simply shown up. They had been inside the wards; she thought that would have kept them safe. But they hadn't, and then it all became chaos. There hadn't been anything to do but run; she had barely managed to get the tent back into her beaded bag before she took off into the fastest sprint she could manage. She remembered feeling the spells barely miss her head, scorching parts of her wild brown curls barely managing to stay in her attempt for a ponytail.

And she had tripped. It wasn't raining then, so she could not figure out why in that short moment before she met the ground that she had fallen nearly face down into very wet mud; on a clearly very heavy rainy day. There were no spells passing by her head, no shouts, no cries….and no Harry or Ron. br /Finally braving the idea of checking her surroundings, Hermione realized that she looked like she was still in the middle of the woods she had been in with Harry and Ron. Many of the trees seemed smaller than before, but it definitely felt and looked like the same area. Quickly checking her other side, she realized she was in no immediate danger and stood; covering her eyes to look for somewhere to go. She needed to find out what had happened and where exactly she was. As she stepped to start her walk, she felt a sharp shock in her foot as a crack pierced the air; the whole ordeal causing her to jump and fall into the mud on her backside. Quickly grabbing her foot, she found something sticking out; a very small piece of what looked like gold. As carefully as possible, she extracted it from her shoe and closed her hand around it. The item was small and in this heavy rain, she wasn't sure what it was or why it had shocked her. But she gathered herself and stood once more. Grabbing her wand, she cast a quick spell to remove the mud and a second that acted as an umbrella and took to looking at the item in her hand. It was very clearly broken and brightly gold, but she wasn't sure what it was. And the rain was doing a very good job at preventing her from seeing if anything else was left behind. So as carefully as she could, Hermione placed the item in her beaded bag and took off to finding anywhere she could go for cover.

The forest became thicker as she marched on in the mud, but she still hadn't seen anything she could to figure out where she had been. And still no signs of the Snatchers or Harry and Ron. Maybe she had apparated in shock? She hadn't felt the familiar pull in her naval, but she wasn't sure of anything that had happened in that moment. A quick flash of white quickly gave her a jolt of fright, but as a roar of thunder immediately followed, she realized it was simply a thunderstorm; which quickened her pace to seek shelter. She wasn't sure the tent was a good idea, but she would use it if she had to.

And Hermione marched on for what felt like hours, until the trees had thinned enough and a small town had come into view. Quickly disarming her spell, she received a new onslaught of the downpour; until she knew if this town was magical or not, she wasn't taking any chances with using magic. So she took to using her hand as coverage for her eyes and made a quick dash to the town, hoping she would quickly find out where she was.

Hermione was both shocked and happily surprised as she failed to run into anyone, realizing quickly that she was in a very muggle town; a town that didn't seem to keep up with the times as she hadn't seen any lights on in this downpour. As soon as she found a place for cover, a stone building with a nice wooden awning, she rummaged her bag until she found what she would deem as an acceptable robe to cover her soaking wet clothes and still manage to blend in enough to not bring any extra attention to herself. A quick wring of her hair and the robe thrown on, she made way into a place that seemed to be a store. Hermione felt she could gather some items if she needed, but she was simply just hoping to find a quick way to find out where she was. The door was heavy and took a little effort to open, but she managed to get inside and close it without the rain wetting the dark wooden floors.

A roaring fire welcomed her as did a pale stout older woman with grey hair, who seemed very shocked to have a guest in the weather they were having. Hermione flicked her eyes back and forth and understood that she was in some kind of grocery store that really did seem like it failed to modernize. Without much else to go on, Hermione took to the aisles to find anything that might help her. All the items on the shelf seemed to be sold in bulk, mainly vegetables and grains, but it was the small area for newspapers that caught her attention. Her brown eyes scanned for the woman tending the area, taking in her full beige attire, before finally finding what looked to be a weekly paper. Hermione reached in her beaded bag, rummaging in a small pocket to scrounge up a few of her muggle coins, hoping that whatever the paper cost, it would be enough. Hermione tried her luck with what she had, walking over to the lady tending the store, she held up the paper with a smile.

"Ma'am, 'm sure ye have enough in yer 'and there" The thick Scottish accent threw off Hermione, but she was simply glad that the woman was willing to take what she had instead of forcing her to be sure it was correct. The stout woman took what Hermione had offered with a small toothy smile, allowing Hermione to place the paper up under her arm and close up her beaded bag.

"Thank you very kindly ma'am. May I ask how far it is to travel to London from here?" Hermione was hoping that she'd get enough information to figure out where she was without seeming to obvious that she didn't know where she was. With a little surprise, she kindly took what seemed to be a small pastry offered by the woman.

"Oh, ye 'ave a bit of traveling to go. Few days if ye've managed te wrangle up one of them fancy 'orseless carriages. But ye look like ye traveling on foot; that'll take a while. Few weeks?" The woman did not here the gasp Hermione had taken in, but took to patting Hermione's back when she was coughing from the food she had managed to get lodged in her throat. She hadn't heard anyone but her grandmother call a car a "horseless carriage".

"A few weeks? I didn't realize I was that far out; I've been distracted in my walking." Hermione finally managed to get a few words out, giving a silent nod of appreciation as the woman stopped tapping her back and smiled.

"Can't say I 'ave heard o' many walking travelers 'ere. Not many want te take the time with all the weird fighting that's been going on an' all. But I can see why ye did." The woman took to scratching her head for a moment before returning a sharp blue-eyed gaze to Hermione. "Name is Sophie, by te way. I tend te store 'ere in Lochwinnoch. Oi' ye having trouble eating tha?" Hermione had managed to start another coughing fit, but waved off the older woman's help of patting of her back.

"I apologize ma'am." Hermione quickly swiped at her eyes to blot out the tears the coughing had induced, before righting herself. "Didn't realize I had wandered so far. The days didn't seem like they had passed that much. I've been out…studying animals. Didn't even recognize that I was that far North." A quick smile seemed to help settle the woman before she wandered behind a counter and pull out a glass and filled it with some form of beverage; Hermione was sure it wasn't water, but she took the very grassy smelling drink and took a sip to be polite.

"Yea, I 'eard ye can get lost in ya thoughts if ye forget to look about. Not te worry dear. Ye can wait out the storm in te spare room upstairs. Not much, but I 'm sure it will feel good te rest on something other than te ground." The woman waved her hand and cut off Hermione before she could manage a word in. "Not te worry dear. It is funny times with the fighting going on. Got te look out for youth tha be wandering an' all" The older woman's smile brought out one of her own as she took another sip of the grassy beverage.

"Well I appreciate it ma'am, thank you." Hermione knew she couldn't mention she'd been sleeping in a magical tent that provided the basics of comfort. As Sophie started moving, Hermione took to following her behind the large counter and through another overly large wooden door. Walking to the room offered, Hermione saw that it wasn't much more than a bed and a window; but the thought was what mattered.

"Ye can stay as long as ye need. Rain 'as been going on for a few days, an' I 'm not sure when it will stop. It tis messing with m' crops, but weather 'nt changing for no one." Hermione nodded and did her best to not get the bed too wet. "Did ye leave ye clothes somewhere?"

"Yes, I did. I was in the woods; my tent is holding fine. I was following a bird and the downpour caught me off guard." Sophie looked her up and down and simply shrugged. Hermione really hoped her studying animals story would hold for now.

"Well, if ye need something else, just let me know. Not sure I 'm going te be getting many other people walking in t'day." Sophie smiled before walking out of the room, leaving Hermione to look out the window at the onslaught of the rain. Placing the cup down on the floor, she quickly closed the door enough to be able to pull off her wet shirt and pants. Peering around the edge of the door, she realized Sophie wasn't in earshot or visible range, and mutter a very quick drying and warming spell before slipping the clothes back on and drying off her robe as well. No need to get herself sick if she could prevent it. Finally taking the time to sit down on the not very soft bed, she opened the paper and was very glad not to have anything in her mouth to cause any more choking. Her eyes dashed over the paper to make sure she wasn't reading things incorrectly, before placing the paper down beside her on the bed. Hermione let her body fully collapse onto the hard bed before rubbing her face with her hands. This day had decided it was not going to go very well for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe the town could be that out of touch with modernization, but she didn't believe that they would forget the year. No wonder Sophie had called it a horseless carriage. Hermione picked up the paper, holding it above her head to focus on what she had read. That glance at the paper caused a very painful but quiet groan to escape from within Hermione. 1937.

The year physically hurt to look at. But the real question was how? And why? Another painful groan escaped before Hermione sat up and reached into her bag and pulled out the small gold piece she carefully saved from earlier; and took to re-examining it. It was hardly enough to go on, but judging from her current situation, she could only think she had managed to trip and step on a misplaced time turner. Well, not only step on it, but to smash it as well. Maybe that's why it had shocked her so painfully. But who would just misplace a time turner? Turning the piece in her hand back and forth, she knew she had never seen one broken before; but it was the only thing that made any logical sense. But how could she have managed to travel this far back? If she remembered correctly from Professor Dumbledore, a few hours at most was all that was possible. So how….how in the world had a time turner been simply left on the ground that didn't need to be spun to work? Had she broken it prior to it sending the painful jolt at her and she just hadn't realized it.

Safely returning the shard of gold to her beaded bag, Hermione allowed herself to lie back down on the bed. She covered her face, rubbing at her eyes to work on taking this all in. 1937…that meant she had traveled over sixty years into the past. Another painful groan came forth and Hermione rolled on to her side to stare out at the rain. The dark clouds seemed to go on forever, but she knew she couldn't risk staying in a town for too long. Not as she was now. Until she could manage to get herself to the Ministry or somewhere safe, she was running too much risk at too much exposure.

Could Hogwarts be an option? Would it be wise to risk running there and trying to explain her situation? If Hermione remembered correctly, Professor Dumbledore should be a teacher there…he wasn't the Headmaster, but he should be there. He had been on friendly enough terms with Harry in her own time, but she wasn't sure how wise it was to just charge into Hogwarts in the time and try to explain the unexplainable. Another thought quickly processed through her mind which caused her to sit upright in a bolt of fright.

The Wizarding War. The first one; with Grindelwald. That would make sense that Sophie had mentioned weird fighting. Professor Dumbledore was at Hogwarts, which was in Scotland. But, if History books served her right, Grindelwald didn't bring the fight to Britain until it was almost over. Unlike Voldemort, Grindelwald had kept to keeping his war international. Then what weird fighting was she mentioning? Even World War II wouldn't start for the Muggles for some time. Two years? 1939 was when Hitler had invaded Poland, so maybe there was just some rouge fighting going on that she couldn't remember ever reading in her history books.

Hermione leaned up again the wall, still looking out at the rain pouring down. Then there was the issue of travel and actually getting into Hogwarts; and even, possibly, into the Ministry. Hermione didn't exist in this time. And awful things could happen to those who meddled with time.

Hermione closed her eyes and let her thoughts consume her senses; which allowed another thought to pop into her head. Voldemort. He would be…what? Maybe ten years old? It would be so easy to just skip all the pain and suffering he would cause and take him out now. He would just be a slightly defenseless child and a quick spell would make quick work of it all. But as much as she hated the monster he would become, she wasn't sure she could get herself to kill a child; even a dark, twisted, and evil child. And, again, that would really cause a nasty butterfly effect into the future. No, whatever she did, she would need to keep as low of a profile as possible.

So going to Professor Dumbledore may feel comfortable, but maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to do as of right now. Even the ministry might be a terrible option, but she wasn't sure what else she could do. Maybe try to start another life in this time and try her best to avoid any and all who she knew to have roles in the future? Hermione closed her eyes and simply let the sound of the rain lull her into a much needed sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the eerie silence that startled Hermione from her sleep. Harry always mumbled, tossing and turning constantly, which had become a much needed sound since they had left on their mission; and Ron had a quiet snore, so silence was never what she had while in her time of slumber in these last few months. Opening her heavy eyes, the near blinding light of the sun brought out colors of the wood ceiling that she hadn't realized the day before. At least, she thought it was only a few hours. She wasn't sure how long she had sleep, but she knew it was the best sleep she had had in a while. Closing her eyes for a moment, she let her body stretch out, finally feeling the strain of every sore spot on her body. It was only when she thought of having another few minutes of rest that her ears registered plenty of muffled steps outside the door.

Listening to each footfall, Hermione's her current situation finally dawned on her, and groan filled the air as she sat up. She knew she needed to see what was going on and to hopefully make her way to the Ministry. Using her fingers, Hermione combed through her hair as much as possible and tried to return it to some form of a manageable ponytail. Once that had been accomplished, she grabbed her cup and slowly made her way back out into the shop, not hearing anyone talking or the silence that seemed to start up as soon as she came out.

"Mornin dearie!" Sophie walked over with a flushed face that Hermione didn't think was from being embarrassed. "Wasn't sure when ye be getting up. Nearly rested for t'ree days, ye did! Had te check te make sure ye were still breathing an' all, I got so nervous." Sophie took to giving Hermione a visual over check that gave her the nostalgic feeling of Mrs. Weasley. "Tis Mr. Sawson, our local doctor," Sophie gave a rather big wave to the tall slender man that she had been talking with prior to Hermione's arrival. "Called 'im this morning to come get a look at ye, but now that yer awake, I know all's well." Hermione smiled before looking back at Mr. Sawson.

He looked oddly young to be an on-hand doctor, but she assumed maybe he just was skilled for his age. Dark brown hair seemed to be neatly swept behind his ear, pale skin that looked like he had forgotten to go out in the sun for a while, and dark blue eyes seemed almost bored as they stared at Sophie, waiting to get on his way. It wasn't until she spotted what looked like a stick that she realized that Mr. Sawson was not a muggle doctor at all, and nearly grabbed her wand in an automatic reflex for defense.

"He studied at some fancy school up north b'fore returning back te Lochwinnoch with all t'ese fancy medicines tha' keep us right as a tree here. Figured if anyone would know how te help ye, it was he." Sophie hadn't realized any tension that Hermione had, but Hermione managed to calm herself realizing that he must be a muggle-born wizard that attended Hogwarts. This could actually help her out if she could figure out how to ask questions.

"Good morning Mr. Sawson." Hermione smiled, surprised when he had simply did a bow to her.

"Morning to you as well, miss." He didn't seem to have anywhere near as a thick accent as Sophie had. He almost sounded as if he was from England and not Scotland. Hermione opened her eyes as she realized, despite letting her sleep for days in her shop, no one had knew her name. It had kindly warmed her heart a bit to the town as she had simply been accepted with warm arms; if even only by Sophie. But she couldn't be calling herself by her name. That would cause too much of an issue…and butterfly effects. She had to do everything she could to avoid the butterfly effects. Simply focusing on her grandmother, and hearing her constantly saying that Hermione had been too long of a name for a little girl to learn, she decided she would just go by what her grandmother called her.

"Mia. I realized I never gave you my name, despite you being so kind to me." Hermione's gaze drifted off to Sophie, who simply smiled. "Mr. Sawson, thank you for taking the time to come look at me. Actually, if you don't mind, I have a small injury I acquired in my travels that I would be happy if you were to look at it?" Returning her eyes to Mr. Sawson, he simply nodded.

"Happy to check. Mind if we go in the room you were sleeping in; just in case another customer comes in?" He gestured to the small room she had barely just left. Hermione simply nodded, turned herself around, and walked back into the room.

Hermione knew she had to come up with a cover story quickly. It had to be something somewhat believable. She wasn't sure how much Sophie had told Mr. Sawson, but she might as well stick to the animal theory. Magically, she could simply say she had been fond of Newt Scamander's work. If she remembered correctly, the book had been out for some time. But, despite her accent, she couldn't be from here; or at least, didn't attend Hogwarts. Wizards aged differently, so she wasn't sure how old Mr. Sawson was, but she couldn't risk the chance that she mentions the school and he may have attended at the same time. Maybe Ilvermorny then? Not a lot of students in her time kept up with the foreign schools, and it was the one not in the Tri-wizard tournaments. She would have to go with Thunderbird, because she couldn't think of the other houses at the moment. So she was a British-sounding past student of Thunderbird in Ilvermorny. She would just have to keep repeating it until it stuck. Lying hadn't been a strong forte of hers; but survival was survival.

She waited for Mr. Sawson to enter before closing the door behind her. She really did have a nasty injury she wanted him to look at, but it was a magical injury; at least he was a wizard. "Thank you, Miss Mia. You can call me Bernie. Miss Sophie doesn't like to call me it, but it's fine however you want to address me." He lowered a small bag before looking up to Hermione once again. "So, what kind of injury is it?"

Hermione simply pointed to his wand, which she realized would look like a branch to any observant muggle. "That kind," she simply stated. "I wasn't sure about Sophie." She watched him lower his head and sigh, and a look of relief appeared on his face.

"So you're a witch then, yes?" Bernie looked up at Hermione and she simply nodded, grabbing her own wand and showing it to him briefly before tucking it back under her sleeve. "I can't say I saw you at Hogwarts. Did you attend?"

"No, I'm from abroad. Ilvermorny….Thunderbird." Hermione hoped she was convincing enough to pass as an American. She knew she hadn't really covered up what she knew was an accent, but she had read enough on the American school to hopefully seem like she had gone. "Always wanted to attend Hogwarts, but my family moved overseas when I was younger; thought I'd be a good fit for Gryffindor." Hermione managed to undo the pants she had under her clothes without too much issues, not convinced Bernie would believe it to be American female fashion to wear jeans.

"Ilvermorny, huh? Not many students of Hogwarts even know that there is an American school, but I'm glad I get to meet a student from there. What brought you to Scotland then?" Bernie seemed patient in waiting for Hermione to show him her injury. Satisfied that the jeans were enough out of sight, Hermione stuck out her leg, showing a rather nasty looking burn. It had been from a spell cast at her, but she hadn't even thought to heal it herself. "Chasing wizards?"

"This is from an accidental spell," Hermione sat on the bed while Bernie started looking for something in his bag. "I'm a big fan of Mr. Newt Scamander's book. I've been traveling looking for a few of the creatures he wrote about." Hermione's eyes inquisitively watched Bernie pull out a few potions before pulling out what looked like a salve. "Haven't had too much luck here yet, but I figure they're just in hiding."

"They are. Not many of the wizards here like the creatures we have here. Would rather they lived in cages rather than the wild, so good luck spotting them." Bernie started applying the salve to Hermione's leg, causing her to hiss at the sudden cold burning sensation she felt. "Accidental spell? What were you trying to do, burn your leg off?"

"Start a fire actually," Hermione opened her eyes and watched oddly smooth hands apply the salve to the back of her leg. "Didn't realize that I was so close. Which house where you in?"

"Hufflepuff. Can't say I am the best at fire starting spells, but I guess it's good that you can survive on your own. Did you have any magical shelter? Seems odd someone out in the wilderness would come into a town and sleep for so long." Bernie grabbed a rag from his bag and wiped his hands before reaching for what look liked bandages for Hermione's leg.

"I try to enter civilization every once in a while," Her eyes never left his hands, taking in what she knew were vital skills in art of healing. "When you're out for so long, it comes in handy to remember that other humans do exist. That's why I grabbed the paper. See if anything new I needed to catch up on." Hermione bit her lip for a moment before going on. "Sophie mentioned some weird fighting going on?"

"Oh, yeah, _that_. Some Hogwarts students have been causing mischief in the area. Muggles are an easy target if they aren't prepared for it. And this town has seen a major calm since the end of the Great War, so they barely pay attention to the weird." Hermione nodded as Bernie finished up wrapping her leg. She forgot that World War I used to be called the Great War; no one thought it would happen twice. "Miss Sophie doesn't even notice the random broom rides those kids take, so the students splurge on the 'risk' of flying among muggles." Bernie took his rag and re-wiped his hands before standing up. "Any other injuries you have? I can leave some burn salve if you need it."

"If you have some to spare, I'd appreciate it. And no, I don't think I have any other injuries; if I do, they didn't hurt as bad as my leg." Hermione stood up, simply allowing the robe to cover her lower half for now. "I was thinking of heading to Diagon Alley. Realized I had very little non-magical money," Hermione did her best not to use the word muggles out loud. She remembered reading somewhere that Americans didn't use the word, but she could not recall what they called muggles it at the moment.

"Gringotts then? I could take you there if you'd like." Bernie sealed his bag and looked back at Hermione. "I was traveling south anyway, which is why Miss Sophie running after me terrified started a small argument between us. She can overreact sometimes, but I guess sleeping for three days is abnormal." He grabbed the door and opened it. Hermione realized he was looking for Sophie. "She's mostly deaf, just so you know; can barely hear a thing. She reads lips really well enough though, which is why she's always staring intensely at you when you talk." Bernie turned back to Hermione and smiled. "You might want to get some muggle clothes from here…Miss Sophie won't notice that wizard robe, but any other town you go in to might question the clothes. We can grab some stuff."

"I think I may have a few things in my tent, but it wouldn't hurt to have more acceptable clothes that aren't American." Hermione watched Bernie step out of the room and he turned back to look at her. But Hermione needed to take care of something real quick. "If you could give me just a moment," She smiled as she closed the door softly, removing her robe as soon as she felt no eyes on her. She did her best to remember some old photographs, and the words of Professor McGonagall, and transfigured her shirt into a simple white blouse and her jeans into high-waist pants she had seen her grandmother wear when she was young. She knew these clothes weren't considered proper, but at least they would blend in better for the time. A quick visual scan noticed that she hadn't managed to get the stains out of her clothes, but it would only enhance her story. Placing her robe back on, she made sure you would tell what she had done, and opened the door back up. Before she could spot Bernie or Sophie, a jolt hit her hard in the chest. Her breath hitched as fell to the ground in a heap; as she felt her eyes get heavy and her body passing out, the only though she had was it had to have been a stunner.


	4. Chapter 4

As consciousness started it's way on Hermione, she couldn't tell if she was in a warmer or colder environment. But she knew she was no longer in Sophie's wooden grocer store. She didn't open her eyes or move to signal whoever may be around her that she was awake; she even took to calm even breaths solely relying on her hearing to figure out where she may be.

It felt damp and it felt dark. Hermione didn't need to open her eyes to realize she was shrouded in minimal lighting. She also felt something around her wrists, so she could only assume she had been bound. There was also shuffling quietly around her, so she thought she was with at least two people. The only conclusion she could think of was she had been stunned and was now somewhere she could be further questioned. Hermione knew she wasn't the best at lying, but she figured she had been good enough. The only thing she could do was to kept repeating her story over and over in her mind making sure she felt it was the only truth she knew; and hoped that whoever was in the room with her wasn't going to use legilimency on her. Trying her best to remain calm and collected, she forced her body to slowly move as if she was only just waking up. It was then she heard the shuffling feet stop.

"Looks like this one is finally awake." The voice was gruff, definitely someone who was used to scare people in interrogation. As Hermione opened her eyes, she took on the dark broad shadow that she knew the voice had come from. Shifting her wrists, she confirmed that was indeed bound.

"Where am I?" Her own voice was raspy, as if she had forgotten to drink water. Hermione only hoped she hadn't been out for days like she was before.

"We ask the questions here, dearie." The broad gentleman came in close enough for Hermione to feel his breath on her face; taking in the foul odor that she could only think had been his breath. Hermione couldn't see much of his features, but his eyes were very pale even in the darkness of the room. He stood back for a moment and she watched him gesture a motion to someone else to come closer. She barely kept herself from struggling as very cold hands had come in from behind and grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open. Something came against her lips, and Hermione could not stop her body from pulling away or trying to fight. Much larger hands forced her head still and she felt the pressure on her lips again, feeling something drip against her tongue before both hands had quickly let go.

"What in the world..." Hermione tried to spit whatever it was out, but it clung to her tongue and gave a weird sensation. Her brown eyes flickered to the man behind her, taking in his dark appearance and extremely thin frame. "What is going on?" She could feel the anger in her voice, as she glared daggers at the man behind her.

"Once again, dearie, we ask the questions." Hermione turned to glare at the first man that had spoken to her. "You're in a undisclosed space in the depths of the Ministry of Magic. You were brought here with suspicions of being aligned with one Gellert Grindelwald." The noise Hermione made to his accusations was in no way a feminine or a dignified sound.

"Oh you have_ got_ to be kidding me right now..." Her eyes closed down to glare at who she now assumed was an Auror. "Connected to Grindelwald?" Her voice seemed to gain an ice as it lost the raspy tone she had started with.

"Dearie, I said I was asking the questions..." The Auror returned Hermione's own glare with one of his own.

"But she has been given Veritaserum Auror Shafiq. Ask the questions and she can not lie." The dark man behind Hermione spoke with an almost bored tone, but Hermione was glad at least she knew what was given to her. But she hadn't been given much; maybe he didn't know he needed three drops to make the veritaserum effective?

"Just trying to tell her why she is here before the questions. And she did ask where she was, so I was simply answering." Auror Shafiq looked back at Hermione with a new glare. "Now, you know where you are. A wizard brought you here because you come from America..."

"Which means I _must_ be aligned with Grindelwald? Do you have any idea how preposterous that sounds?" Hermione looked at both the gentlemen before taking a few calming breaths. At least they believed she couldn't lie; she could feel the tingle telling her to state everything, but she could fight it. "No, as I told Mr. Sawson I am here to look at creatures discussed in Mr. Scamander's book." She rubbed at her bound wrists and realized that it only made them tighter, which caused another undignified sigh to come from her. "I was tracking and lost sense of where I was and the time."

"Mr. Scamander is nothing more than a fool and Dumbledore's pet. You won't be spotting any of those creatures around here." Auror Shafiq waved his hand and what looked like a notebook popped in his hand. "Mr. Bernard Sawson said you had suspicious injuries that would link you to the delinquents that have been causing issues in the area to spread Grindelwald's message."

"Oh for goodness sake!" Hermione tried to stand in defiance, but found she was somehow stuck to the chair. "Maybe you need to question _him_ because he told me the weird fighting that the non-magical woman Sophie had been noticing was caused by Hogwarts students!" Brown eyes looked down at Auror Safiq's hands as he seemed to be writing something down.

"Mr. Bernard Sawson said he was trying to gather as much information from you after you managed to frighten one of his local muggles by showing up in a rainstorm in weird clothes and sleeping for nearly three days." He flipped his paper over and continued. "Mr. Bernard Sawson states that he had been asked to check on you and you had awoken before he could see you. He states you referred to yourself as a 'Miss Mia' and asked if he could check in on an injury..."

"Yes, because I grew up in _America_!" Hermione grunted out. "If you do not know the goings on in America, it is illegal for the Wizarding World to interact with the non-magical community!" She could not tell if Auror Shafiq was listening, but she could feel the man from before stand behind her closer.

"As I was saying," Auror Shafiq tried to speak louder, but Hermione was not having any of it.

"No, you listen here _sir_. In the backward nature of Magical Congress of the United States of America, we are not allowed to have any relations with the non-magical community! If Mr. Sawson had any expertise of anything outside of the small world of the United Kingdom, he would have realized that where I grew up would be a prison sentence if I exposed myself!" Hermione huffed so indignantly, she couldn't believe that this small story she had made up wasn't the truth. "I addressed him ONLY after I spotted his wand, which was sticking out of his medical bag with no intentions of being hidden at all. I assumed it was safe to expose myself to him, but I assumed incorrectly!" Her breaths were hard and fast, and she could feel the heat that had managed its way into her face.

"Well, you are quite vocal about this, Miss Mia." The dark gentleman from behind her came into few once more, and she turned to give him the glare that she had been focusing on the Auror.

"Well I _have_ to be, having a non-magical parents! Do you have _any_ idea what it was like being told that my most proud moment of realizing I had magic was going to be removed from my parents memories 'for the _greater good_'. Gellert Grindelwald is a mad man who is trying to suppress my parents far beyond getting their memories erased." Brown eyes turned back to Auror Shafiq, who was looking at Hermione in a way she couldn't express. "I am not sorry to say that following Gellert Grindelwald as a non-magically born witch would not only be the stupidest thing I could ever do, but would _guarantee_ the death of my parents and _anyone_ I have ever held dear that can not defend themselves." Hermione huffed as she once again tried to remove her hands from her binds. "Now would one of you _gentlemen_ kindly remove these horrendous binds?"


	5. Chapter 5

"You _do_ understand you can not leave an interrogation until you _actually_ answer all the questions, correct?" The dark man that stood behind Hermione has walked to be in front, standing in-between Hermione and Auror Shafiq. Hermione was breathing hard from her sudden outburst, feeling tears start to prick at her eyes. While she was trying to remain calm and collected, she couldn't help but feel emotions pull at her.

"So I'm to assume I haven't given you the answers you need then?" Hermione couldn't keep the anger or ice out of her voice. She knew she was getting emotional, but the best type of lie was one that was shrouded in truth.

"Unfortunately, while your emotion outburst is reassuring, we have _actual_ questions that need simple yes or no answers while you are under the veritaserium." His voice was calm, collected, and reminded Hermione of Professor Dumbledore whenever he spoke to an unsettled crowd. Hermione could only huff in return, trying her best to sit back and calm herself down. "Alright then, Auror Shafiq. If you would continue with the questions?"

Hermione simply returned her gaze the the broad Auror once more, watching him shake his head and look at his book once more. "Fine then. 'Miss Mia', I need you to state your full name for the record." His eyes looked up at Hermione quickly after reading and waited for an answer. Hermione had to think quickly, she knew. A last name had not been in her set, but it had to be believable. It had to be something easy for her to slip in and out of time with little to no conflict; and something that could easily blend into American society. All she could think was to shroud in some truth, and she could only think of one name that would be able to blend in to the muggle world with no issues.

"Potter, my name is Mia Potter." Her brown eyes looked at the Auror hoping that he simply took it for what it is. "And no, there is no relation to Fleamont Potter; I have been asked that more times than I can count; also, I think my hair answers for that." Hermione watched Auror Shafiq's eyes look up to the horror she could only imagine her hair had taken form of.

"Mia Potter...yes." The Auror seemed to be writing down something and quickly stopped. "Miss Mia Potter, state your blood for the record." His eyes refocused on Hermione and she just silently grit her teeth.

"Non-magically born. I believe the term you use is muggleborn?" Hermione did not try to hide the malice in her eyes or her words. Why her blood-type mattered when she was being interrogated in relations to a wizard who wanted to suppress muggles was beyond her, but she guessed she had to answer these questions.

"Muggleborn, yes." He wrote down this answer as well. "Miss Mia Potter, where were you born?"

"Near Heathgate, but my family moved to America when I was five years old." Hermione decided that keeping as much truth could help her as much as possible. And she doubted that many of the pure blooded wizards went to the small village.

"Okay, then." Then Auror wrote down this information and looked back up at Hermione. "Miss Mia Potter, you've stated that your family moved to America when you were young. Where did you grow up?" It took everything for Hermione not to bite her lip to answer this; she was really winging this interrogation at this point.

"Just outside of New York City." Hermione had to make sure she didn't let her sigh of relief escape when neither one of the gentlemen in the room seemed to pick up on anything. New York was populated enough that she would have been able to blend in, and she could also disappear if needed.

"Miss Mia Potter, are you affiliated with one Gellert Grindlewald?" Auror Shafiq looked up in time for Hermione to let out an indignant snort.

"Of course not. As I stated before, he is nothing more than a mad man preying on those who are stupid enough to listen." At least that wasn't a lie for Hermione. Simply using her anger from Voldemort and transferring it to Grindelwald was helpful. She watched the Auror write down what she stated as well, almost missing the her other interrogator moving to her other side.

"Miss Mia Potter, why were you alone in the wilderness?" Auror Shafiq was not the one to ask the question this time, but Hermione assumed these questions had already been laid out before she had woken up.

"I was studying creatures that I've read about in Newt Scamander's book. With the weather, I was on the lookout for an Augurey, but wasn't having any luck. So I spotted the town and thought I'd get some local items to check back in with society." Lucky for Hermione, she had a passion for knowledge and was able to pull at lease some creatures quickly to the front of her mind. And the rain _would_ help with the Augurey idea since they only came out in the rain. Thank goodness she couldn't help herself with gaining as much knowledge as possible.

"Yes, Miss Potter. But _why_ were you _alone_?" The dark slender man came around in front of Hermione, giving her a full look of his thin facial features.

"Is it odd that someone travels on their own? My parents are still in America and I am not married." Well that definitely was the truth. "And your brashness in my 'chasing creatures' should let you know why no one is with me. Not many of my classmates thought taking a hike through the wilderness with nothing more than what they could carry to go creature spotting sounded like a pleasant idea." Hermione looked back up at the dark slender man, somewhat disgruntled that she didn't know his name. But maybe that was all for the best at this point.

"I think, Auror Shafiq, that all of the questions have been answered?" The man in question looked at the dark man and simply nodded. "As much as I can say I admire your tenacity for these creatures, I strongly advise against making yourself look like a follower of Grindelwald." Hermione was about to start talking in defense of herself, but the man had raised his hand to silence her. "About ten years ago, New York City had an issue with both Gellert Grindlewald and Newt Scamander, which I'm sure you have heard about?" Hermione simply nodded, knowing that acting like she didn't know would help her. "Unfortunately, since we attempted to bring Gellert Grindlewald to serve his sentence here and he escaped, there has been a size-able amount of tension between the Ministry of Magic and the Magical Congress of the United States of America. You can see that simple stating that you _are_ American can cause serious issues. We have you information on file, so next time if you happen to cause activities that could be read as suspicious, we can act without the binds or interogation."

Hermione watched his hand wave and felt the binds release her wrists, which she immediately brought in front of her to rub. Another wave and she could physically feel the chair seem to let her go, allowing her to stand up.

"Miss Potter, as you can tell, you are free to go." Auror Shafiq had already started making his way to the wall, and Hermione watched as a door suddenly appeared. The dark man appeared behind Hermione and gently touched her back in a way to help her start making her way to the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione had no choice but to make her way out of the small room she had been contained in. She felt the man follow her out, still keeping a soft hand pressed against her back until she was out in some part of the Ministry that was nearly filled with blinding light compared to the room she had been just in. Her eyes adjusted as she took in the obnoxiously bright walls of the hallway, rather surprised it was so bright without windows. Then her brown eyes focused on Auror Shafiq, who had stopped at another spot on the wall; which she could only assume had been another interrogation room; the board he had in his hands seemed to change and the Auror was focused on gaining as much information before heading in. Hermione could only wonder how many "suspicious wizards" were being held in the very area; the idea bringing a sour taste to her mouth.

It was only once she was fully in the hallway that the man behind her removed his hands, and Hermione turned slightly to look more at his thin dark features. Hermione couldn't help but feel that he looked like a very thin hairless cat; his eyes were very dark but large for the rest of his thin features. His face strongly showed a sense of boredom; which made Hermione couldn't help but feel that whoever he was, he really didn't like being brought in to each interrogation.

Taking in more of her surroundings, Hermione felt her heart nearly stop when she saw another person in the hallway; one she wouldn't need any introduction since he was a splitting image of someone she already knew. The dark man who was in her room made his way over to the tall nearly white blonde, sour looking man whom Hermione couldn't prevent herself from staring at. It was as if Draco Malfoy had come back in time with her; but she knew that those looks were strongly genetic. And since it was 1937, she knew it had to have been his grandfather; but his name was not coming to her at the moment.

When light blue eyes turned towards Hermione, she could do no more than nod and turn away. She had no idea what department of the Ministry she was in or how to get out. It was the soft conversation that seemed to have started between the two that gave Hermione a weird sensation and she turned herself back to both of them and walked over slowly; silencing them rather quickly. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but I was wondering on where I was to go to leave?" Mr. Malfoy did not hide any disdain from his face as Hermione had come closer. If she had to guess, if the knowledge of her lack of magical parentage had gotten to him, that _that_ had something to do with it.

"Of course, Miss Potter." The dark man gave what looked like a soft smile before turning back to Mr. Malfoy. "Abraxas, if you would excuse me for a moment. And if Auror Shafiq is looking for me, I'll just be a moment." Her turned back to Hermione and placed his had softly back on her back. "We will head to the elevators and they'll take you right up to the main floor." Hermione placed a soft smile on her lips because she had to somewhat pretend she didn't know the inner workings of the Ministry.

As they started, Hermione took to trying to memorize where in the Ministry she was, having been in several places she was not supposed to be in her fifth year, but she didn't recognize the long hallway. At least she hadn't been whisked off to Azkaban, which she felt very grateful for. "Thank you, sir."

"Not to worry, Miss Potter. You were not even conscious when you were brought in so I would be rather shocked if you _had_ known where to go." Hermione bit her lip as she tried to look around. "Again I apologize for our brashness with you; Mr. Sawson seemed rather upset with a random witch coming into his home town no less than 24 hours after the last attack they had in the area." A quick, sudden turn into what was once a wall turned into a very dimly light hallway. Hermione realized she would not be able to recognize where she was even if she tried. But the gentleman with her seemed like he was on auto-pilot. "Some of the followers of Grindelwald have been slowly working at things there, and he simply jumped at the opportunity to gain information. He hasn't even left the Ministry yet, I believe."

Another random turn into a cold walk way before a last turn into a very strongly lit area nearly made Hermione nauseous. "Well, maybe he should have asked first. Taking a stunner and then being interrogated doesn't help the English image much." She couldn't stop the huff of annoyance.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you could discuss that with him if you wanted," Hermione watched the dark man's hand wave off to the elevator, clearly seeing Mr. Sawson standing by it. Hermione could not keep the scowl off her face as she saw him almost nervously leaning on the wall near the elevator.

"I think it will be far better if I just avoid him, actually. Just left an interrogation; I don't need a reason to go to prison this quickly." Her arms crossed against her chest, and she could hear the muffled sound of laughter come from beside her.

"You have to remember your environment, Miss Potter." Hermione couldn't help the smirk that had pulled at her lips. If she didn't know any better, she would assume that he was a Slytherin. "A note of advice, though. Remember that Gellert Grindelwald does not care what your blood is as a witch, just as long as you agree to follow him. He has more than just pure-blooded wizards following him." Hermione felt his hand come off her back and she couldn't stop herself from looking back at him. There was a gleam in his eye that just didn't settle well with Hermione, but she didn't want to come off as rude at the moment. Well, any more rude than she just had been. "Miss Potter, I am happy all has gone well for you this evening. But please do try not to stun Mr. Sawson on the way out." Hermione didn't have the chance to say anything before her hand had been grabbed softly and the dark man had bent down and kiss it. "Have a wonderful evening. Simply ask the house elf on the elevator to take you up to the main entrance; from there you can take the floo out. If needed, simply go to Diagon Alley and get a room at the Leaky Cauldron. Simply put it under the name Malfoy; I'll make sure Abraxas takes care of everything." He released her hand and turned, disappearing quickly behind the wall. Hermione knew, wherever she had been taken had to be clearly kept secret.

As Hermione made her way over to the elevator, and doing her best not to allow Mr. Sawson to spot her arrival, she couldn't help but look down at her hand. Whoever he was, that had _not_ been someone she would associate with the idea of leading the charge against Gellert Grindlewald. Instead, he had come off rather neutral to everything. Which only made Hermione wonder; had the small dose of veritaserum been accidental or intentional?


	7. Chapter 7

Her eyes moved back up in time to watch the infamous Ministry elevator pop open, the house elf nearly being trampled by a few Aurors who were clearly dragging in more people. And by the looks of it, she hadn't been the only unconsious one to come in. Hermione simply rolled her eyes as she watched Mr. Sawson jump back in fright watching the hoard of wizards come through, as if he would be trampled himself standing nearly three feet away.

Hermione used the group to hide herself and made her way to the elevator, trying to smile at the house elf with no luck as it did not seem to pay her any mind. But she still leaned over just enough to state she needed the main entrance before finding herself a little corner and grabbing on to the rope over her head. Only one other person was on the elevator with her, to which it seemed like they had deemed her dangerous for coming off the interrogation floor; which only caused Hermione to let out soft sigh. Just as the elevator was about to leave, Hermione spotted Mr. Sawson getting on, who looked at her for a moment. She had to guess that he was trying to figure out what to say to her, but the only thing she could hear was blood rushing to her ears. As much as she wanted to return his favor, she kept to herself and turned her gaze away. But Hermione could feel that he had chosen to stand close to her, so she simply closed her eyes bracing for the sickening pull this elevator always gave her; and it did not disappoint.

Before Hermione could take in another breath, the elevator had stopped on another floor, one she did somewhat recognize. The floor for the Department of Mysteries. As much as she didn't want to think back on that day, she couldn't stop the memories from coming through; fighting a much bigger fight then the group of teenagers had ever expected. But Hermione wasn't sure what they had expected, other than Voldemort's snake Nagini and Sirius. The ambush had been effective, though, _but_ it had also failed; since the prophecy had been broken before it could get back to Voldemort. She could feel her eyes well up with tears, replaying the fighting back and forth. The last few years had been dedicated to Harry and the war against Voldemort; and here she was sixty years in the past stuck with no ideas of where she should go or what to do. And she didn't have her friends with her; no Harry and Ron were more than just friends. They were family...and she was now without them. As the elevator pulled once more, Hermione allowed a few tears to fall down her cheeks before wiping them away with the sleeve of her blouse.

As quick as the elevator had moved, it had stopped; and with the sudden onslaught of noise, Hermione opened her eyes to the main entrance. Quickly letting go of the rope, she followed the crowd out, almost forgetting she may have someone following her. Her eyes scanned through the chaos, taking in what seemed like hundreds of witches and wizards bustling through their day; most on their way to the floor to leave. She took in the horrendous statue that took center-stage in the middle of it all, glad it wasn't what it would be later on. But she had to get out of the Ministry. She wasn't going to take up the offer from 'Malfoy' either; that seemed a far too dangerous option to take at this point. Clearly whoever the man from interrogation was, he seemed interested enough in letting her know his stance on Grindelwald. She clearly stated how she felt about the wizard; did he think simply telling her that being a witch was going to override all the evils Grindelwald was putting in to place? Hermione simply shook her head, and made her way over to one of the floos.

"You will need to get your wand back, you know, before you leave." Hermione jumped and turned on the spot in a very defensive position to look at Mr. Sawson. In her thoughts, she had forgot that he was still around her, which simply put a scowl on her face. She also refused to call him anything other than Mr. Sawson because she no longer wanted to remain friendly with him.

"Well I would have my wand if _someone _hadn't stunned me, dragged me to the Ministry, and forced me into an interrogation, now wouldn't I?" Hermione was speaking softly but even she could hear the shrill in her own tone. She watched him take a step back, obviously not ready for her temper.

"I just wanted..." His voice was soft, almost nervous, and for a moment it reminded her of Neville.

"I. DO. NOT. CARE." Hermione's voice had risen slightly, but she felt her hand raise, clearly in a position to fight. "I have _no_ idea what you think following me around for, but whatever it is, it's not happening. I do not want to know who, what, when, where, or _why_ you thought stunning someone was a good idea. You can go on your merry way." Hermione huffed and turned on the spot, walking towards what she remembered being a check-in for the Ministry. It was clearly in the open, so it wouldn't need a backstory as to why she knew where to go.

"Miss Mia, please...just give me..." Mr. Sawson had started to follow her, clearly not getting the idea that she wasn't going to listen to him

"Absolutely not." Hermione's tone was firm and clearly very final. She had nothing she wanted to say to him. _Remember where you are._ She could still hear the very Slytherin words whispering to her to keep a good face, and she really couldn't do anything in a clearly filled area. And she had months of suppressed anger to take out on Mr. Sawson. She kept marching forward, stopping only when she had reached where she was headed. "Good evening." The man before the desk looked up at her, looking behind her as well; letting her know Mr. Sawson had followed her.

"Good evening, Miss. May I assist you?" The gentleman was very old, but age didn't seem to stop him from his job.

"Yes, my name is Mia Potter. I believe my wand may have been turned in and I wish to retrieve it?" Hermione had no malice in her tone, though she could still feel the blood rush of anger throughout. She watched as the old wizard turned and grabbed a very familiar board; the one the Auror was holding throughout her interrogation. She simply stood patiently as he seemed to be going over things.

"Yes, ma'am. Cleared your interrogation, did you? That's good." The wizard placed down the board and reached off to his left, pulling out Hermione's wand. She couldn't hide the look of pleased satisfaction as he handed over her wand, and she wrapped her fingers around it allowing herself the pleasure of feeling her wand back in her hand. She tucked her wand up her sleeve, still feeling the brace she wore for it around her wrist, before she was about to turn to leave. "This was also turned in with your wand, miss." Hermione's eyes went wide as her beaded bag was brought out, and she had to make sure she didn't snatch it back; she had a feeling that reaching for something so small so eagerly would bring far more suspicion to it than she wanted at the moment. Quickly putting it on, she could only hope that her bag hadn't been gone through; and if it had, she was in far more trouble than she originally hoped.

"Thank you very much, sir. I hope you have a pleasant evening." Making sure her nerves were set right, she turned on the spot, sidestepped around Mr. Sawson, and made her way to the floo area.

Hermione refused to look back at all, and simply stood in a small line waiting for her turn to leave. She honestly wanted to remain in the Ministry, to find someone to talk to about her current situation, but she did not want Mr. Sawson or any of her interrogators to follow her. And she needed time to relax and to _think_. Biting her lip, she simply had to focus on coming back soon; maybe even tomorrow if she could manage it. As it was her turn, she grabbed some floo powder, clearly stating 'Diagon Alley' before the flare of green took over her vision.

The Leaky Cauldron wouldn't change much by her time, Hermione quickly realized. It was still dark, dank, and very musty. Even the crowd gathered in looked the same. But the bartender was clearly a new person. She simply nodded before making her way in the direction of Diagon Alley. She wanted to make sure she was out of the way in cause Mr. Sawson thought it would be wise to follow her. And as she stepped out to the familiar wall, she could hear the fire roar, simply letting herself move quicker to get away. Being followed, at this point, was putting Hermione on edge, and she wasn't sure if it was the months she had been or the run or just always having to watch over her shoulder that made sure her wand was at the ready.

Luck seemed to be on her side since it seemed that whoever was behind her had stopped long enough for the wall to open and for Hermione to get herself tucked into the bustling crowd. As her stomach started to growl at her, Hermione realized it had been day's since she had last eaten. She visually scanned the area, spotting what looked like a stall with some street foods on it, mentally hoping she would have enough to get something small. She had been on rations financially for a few months now, and she knew they were bare-boned, but she didn't know how she could manage to get herself more with all her current issues. She reached into her beaded bag and pulled out a few sickles and knuts, hoping that she could get something affordable.

As she approached the stall, she looked up to see a rather grumpy old woman sitting there, looking at her with disdain. Hermione was starting to working if maybe that kind of look was just more of the normal in this time; though she's heard retail is not always the friendliest business to get into. She looked at what seemed like a type of meat kabob and could physically feel her stomach begging for it.

"They're one sickle each, girl." Even her voice sounded disdainful. Hermione simply nodded, and was counting up a set so she could have a few, barely noticing the hand that reached around her and dropped a galleon into the lady's hand. Her eyes looked up at the gentleman behind her, realizing that she _hadn't_ lost Mr. Sawson in the crowd. The only thing she could think of was her hair was easy to follow; goodness knows how atrocious it must look at the moment. She simply grunted to herself and tried to finish counting her sickles before a few kabobs had been offered to her. She lifted her gaze again, looking at Mr. Sawson with a new set of malice.

"I am more than capable of getting my own, thank you." Hermione had grit her teeth and nearly growled at him, but he didn't lower his hand. If she wasn't so hungry, she would smack it out of his hand all together.

"Just take it, please? You've been standing here counting out your money," He paused as Hermione glared back at him again. "It's been clear that you do not have much, and it's just some food. You can be angry all you want, but I know you haven't had a proper meal in who knows how long." Hermione closed her eyes and bit her cheeks before just turning around and walking away. The growl in her stomach showed it's protest at her choice of actions, but she wasn't taking food from someone who clearly hadn't thought about her safety. And there was just something crawling under her skin that she hadn't caught his intentions before she had been stunned. She had been on the run too long for her not to be able to detect someone that had wished her harm.

But she avoided the crowd as best as she could, spotting the tea shop and hoping she'd have better luck in there. Her sickles and knuts in her hand, she almost made it to the door before Mr. Sawson nearly jumped in front of her. Hermione had her wand out before he had even stopped moving and had it pointed at his chest.

"Give me one reason, Mr. Sawson, that I should hex you." Hermione's voice was dangerously low, but she knew he had heard it.

"I'm just trying to be polite..." He barely had time to talk.

"Being polite?" Hermione snorted in her disbelief. "You call stunning someone and having them dragged into an interrogation _being polite_? I have _no_ idea where you learned your manners, but _clearly_ you need to go back to school with them." Hermione huffed, still holding her wand firmly in her hand. Despite the crowd in the area, it didn't seem that her standing nearly in front of a store with her wand out was bothering anyone enough to question it.

"You don't understand..." Mr. Sawson tried once more to start, but Hermione had him cut off once again.

"You have no idea who I am. You have no idea what I have been through." Hermione watched his eyes move up to her hair, and it vaguely dawned on her that Ron once mentioned that her hair seemed to spark when she was mad. "I have lived through _hell_ Mr. Sawson. I just lost two of my best friends, who were far more like family. I am _alone_ Mr. Sawson. And here I come into a town looking for _HELP_ and you twist and turn that against me. You can take your politeness and kindly shove it up yours_." _Hermione huffed in anger, clearly talking more than she should have, but no one needed to know who she was talking about. Roughly rubbing her free hand through part of her mass of hair, she decided that tucking her wand away was best. Hermione allowed a few calming breaths before looking back up at Mr. Sawson's clearly shocked face. "I don't care if you're hear to somehow clear your conscious for stunning me. For standing around waiting for who knows how long for me to be brought out; for maybe hoping I'd forgive you for attacking me when I needed that kindness." Hermione watched his face turned, realizing she had been right on the money with it. "I thank you, honestly, for healing my leg. But I can't stay around here."

Hermione could see his appearance drop as she spoke, but she was right. She couldn't stay around here; not for long anyway. Without much else to say, Hermione turned on her heel and went into the tea shop, hoping that she could afford a cup and that it would calm her nerves. Hermione walked into the tea shop, the silence from within a stark contrast to the busy street just outside the door. She saw a small blonde girl who must have been the shop keep. Hermione returned the smile that was given to her and made her way up to the counter. Her eyes took in jars after jars of tea leaves, not entirely sure which was which. "Evening ma'am, may I have a cup of strong tea?"

The blonde girl only nodded, turning around and grabbing a kettle that was clearly very hot. Hermione watched as the girl reached up and grab a jar, twisting it open, and scooping some leaves into a small basket. The girl hustled and got the basket into the kettle, and sat the kettle on the counter. "A cup is a knut, but you can get the whole kettle for five." The girl smiled at Hermione, and Hermione simply counted out the five knuts and gave them over. The blonde girl smiled and grabbed a cup for Hermione. "Will you be needing any milk or sugar?"

"Just some sugar would be great, thank you." Hermione watched the girl levitate the tea kettle, cup, and the sugar over to a small table; which Hermione made her way over to.

"I have some crumpets in the back too, 2 for a knut if you want any. Gran makes them for the shop." The blonde girl smiled and Hermione simply pulled out another knut. If this was all she was going to have for a while, she might as well splurge. Plus it was far cheaper than the kabobs. And the crumpets would probably fill her up more.

The blonde girl nodded and summoned the knut and a plate floated over to Hermione's table. "Let me know if you need anything else, dear."

Hermione nodded and set to preparing her cup of tea. After a small spoonful of sugar in the bottom of the cup, she poured the hot tea into her cup and let it cool for a moment. Her brown eyes scanned the store, and she saw that Mr. Sawson was still outside the shop. He wasn't coming in, but he wasn't leaving. Honestly, she wasn't sure how much more of a hint she could give the man before she had to simply hex him. Taking a bite of the crumpet, she nearly moaned with how good it tasted. Didn't even need jam! Maybe she could splurge a little more and grab a few more for the road. Another bite confirmed for Hermione that she would need to grab a few more. Happily content with her food, she simply enjoyed her cup of tea and crumpets, briefly letting her mind shut off and to simply enjoy the moment.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione stayed in the shop to finish her kettle of tea and she had ordered four more crumpets to eat with it; she honestly could not say when the last time she had felt this full or satisfied, but she wasn't going to complain. It was only when the blonde girl had politely told her that the shop was closing that Hermione stood and made her way out of the shop. Much to her distaste, Mr. Sawson hadn't relieved his position on the outside of the door, but she refused to acknowledge him at this point. Whatever he was needing to say could stay with him. She wasn't going to give in; not right now.

Hermione walked through the much emptier streets, looking for an apparition point. She wasn't sure it was the best idea, but she knew the wooded areas did still exist; so going to a local wood and setting up her tent was her plan. Plus she wouldn't have to spend any more money; or take up the offer for the inn. She knew plenty of charms to keep out unwanted guests away, but she would still need to get back to the Ministry; she still needed to talk to _someone_ about what had happened. Part of her simply wanted to remain as Mia Potter and live out her days. But living alone in a tent for goodness knows how many years, only coming out for what she needed just didn't sound like a good plan. She crossed her arms, dodging people when she needed to, but generally keeping her eyes looking for any spot she could use. Her eyes caught a much too familiar place, so Hermione made her way over to Flourish and Botts, hoping that someone would be in to help her. She pressed on the door and smiled when it still allowed entrance, letting the smell of parchment and leather fill her senses.

"Ma'am, I apologize, we're about to close." The gentleman behind the counter spoke out to her, finishing up with the client that was in front of him. Hermione simply made her way to the desk, before waiting for him to finish. "Are you picking up an order, ma'am?" The gentleman looked clearly disgruntled about not being allowed to simply close.

"I apologize, sir. Just wanted to know where there was a local apparition point for Diagon Alley? I came in by floo." Hermione kept herself short, barely containing the desire to run through the bookshelves.

"Oh. You can just out on the left side of the building, ma'am. There is one right by Ollivander's too. First time here?" He looked at Hermione for a moment, before he started packing things up.

"You could say that, yes. But thank you." Hermione waved at the gentleman and made her way out of the store, turning to the side and spotting the point he had brought to her attention. Quickly reaching into her bag, Hermione made sure she had herself all set, only briefly catching the gaze of Mr. Sawson before she thought of a local wood and apparited on the spot.

She knew she was good with apparition, but apparently today just wasn't her day. She nearly fell over sick when she landed and there was also a small sting in her leg; she realized she must have lightly splinched herself in the process. But it wasn't too bad, so she would tend to it later. Almost as if second nature, she started muttering each charm she had mastered in her travels with Harry and Ron. With each flick of her wand, she failed to stop the tears that had started. She had not done this alone; either it was Harry and Ron or just her and Harry, but she had always been with someone. As the last ward set in place, Hermione allowed herself to fall to her knees and just cry.

The whole situation was beyond comprehension at this point; time travel this far should not be possible. Walking to a random town that just happens to have issues with a dark wizard should not happen so quickly. Hermione felt the dirt on her forehead as the world came crashing down in floods of held-in emotions. She had been on auto-pilot, just trying to survive. Now, in a barren area behind wards of protection, she could simply let everything out. At least, for a moment. Taking in a few deep breaths, Hermione rubbed her eyes and stood up, reaching into her beaded purse and pulling out and expanding her tent. Allowing it to settle into its new home, she simply sat back down on the ground and allowed the sounds of the nighttime nature speak to her.

She should rest; go inside her tent and just rest until she could re-enter this foreign time and get the things done that she needed. Hermione knew going in to the tent would only cause more tears to come forth; but at this point, maybe grieving was what she needed to do. Unless she could get herself back in her time, she would be stuck alone. She would have to be Mia Potter, muggle-born American student; the witch who was interrogated for following magical animals. Rubbing her temple, Hermione stood and made her way to inside the tent, glad that magical charms existed to prevent the tent from destroying everything inside if the tent had not been put away correctly.

A new fresh set of tears started as Hermione made her way over little things that had been left out that were Harry's and Ron's. The radio that Ron had clung to for the Potterwatch. Harry's much too large over-shirt he always wore. Hermione allowed herself to find her ways to her knees once more, simply letting the flow of tears come; allowing her body to be racked over with sobs and tremors. What had felt like hours had been days, and she was just worn. The silence of the tent was taken over by near wails that had Hermione glad she had put up silencing charms. She wrapped her arms around herself in a non-comforting hug, allowing her body to pull itself into a ball. This was all too much, especially after the last few months she had been through. But this moment would have to be her only weak moment. She would have to eventually turn back on the smart and brilliant witch who was the smartest with in nearly a century. She would need to get herself to the Ministry, to find out who to trust, and hopefully find someone that _may_ have an idea of what could be done to help.

Taking in a few deep breaths once more, Hermione calmed herself and weakly stood up. Every bone in her body was starting to ache, and she knew she just needed to set herself in for an emotional day or two until she could return to being calm and collected. Walking over to the sink, Hermione cast an aguamenti charm, a warming charm, and then accio-ed a rag. She didn't feel like setting up a full wash, but at least attempting to get some of the soot from her travels off would visually make her feel better. Hermione removed all her clothes except her undergarments and took to lathering herself up in a mock bath. She could feel a few tears settle in once more, but worked through roughly scrubbing her skin until all the soot came off and her skin was red. Dipping the rag in to the sink again, she 'rinsed' herself, at least somewhat clean for the time being. After a pause, she removed the water with a charm and re-set the sink with just warm water and very uncomfortably bent her neck to get her hair in. She knew that washing her mass of curls this way could and probably would make them far more out of control than before, but clean hair was clean hair. She just lathered and rinsed with the soap she had used on her body, wringing out her hair when she was done and standing back up. She walked around for a moment, finally setting on just grabbing Harry's shirt and putting it on, clearly swimming in the over-sized shirt; but it felt like home.

Letting her aching body sit down on the small sofa, she settled her hair on the other side so it could drip onto the floor and laid her head back with closed eyes. For now, Hermione was content on just relaxing and letting each emotion rack her body. Maybe she'd wake up and this would all have been some terrible dream, but she knew deep down that this was all _very real_. There would be no waking up from this, no greeting from Harry telling her she had simply worn Voldemort's locket too long. With a fresh set of tears, Hermione let herself be lulled into a very needed but nerved-filled slumber.


	9. Chapter 9

Eerie silence was what woke Hermione from a very deep slumber. With a small shift in her neck, she knew instantly that not only had she fallen asleep on the couch in a terrible position, but she hadn't shifted much. Taking in the darkness of the tent, Hermione wished she could just close her eyes and just force herself to sleep until she was back in her own time. But sitting still was never one of her strong suits, and she didn't think she would or should change now.

Groaning and stretching, Hermione stood up and allowed the muscles that were not happy with her to settle themselves. A flick of her wand and she had a small light illuminating the area she was in. There would be no one to greet her this time, but she wasn't sure she could cry any more tears; her eyes felt like the were filled with sandpaper.

As she made way to relieve herself, Hermione could only let her mind wander to what she needed to do. As sad as it would be, she would need to start removing things that wouldn't make sense in this time. Any clothes, items that hadn't been invented yet...it would have to be destroyed. She could feel the whelm of emotion start taking over, but her eyes fail to produce tears. So she silently just sobbed until she was done.

As filling as the tea and crumpets had been, Hermione could feel her stomach asking for more. She wasn't sure she could live off just crumpets either; and eventually her money _would_ run out, even if the prices here were cheaper. So as Hermione made her way to her clothes, she set in her mind a plan. Clean up and pack up her tent, put some kind of protection charm on her beaded bag so only she would be able to open it and see its full contents, find something to eat, then head to the Ministry. Taking a small shirt and a pair of jeans, Hermione used the same transfiguration charm she had before, setting herself up a nice set of a cream blouse and dark blue trousers. Hermione decided adding possibly looking for employment to her mental list. Depending on how her visit went with the Ministry would determine what she was doing in that regard.

Getting herself dressed, Hermione finally got a look in a small mirror of the atrocity that her hair had taken form of. She knew using normal soaps would never work on her bush of curls, but she had been too tired to care at the time. So she would have to fight the mass with a brush and not be picky. Or scream because she knew it wasn't going to be comfortable. But at least her hair had actually dried, so there was that. Finding her hair brush and settling herself back on the couch, she carefully starting brushing small section after small section; wincing with each knot she found and easy her way through each.

Her hands were sore to the point of almost numb when she finally finished, but she knew the hair was bushier than normal. But at least it was knot free. Skilled hands made quick work with a bushy braided style that she pulled into a bun. She wasn't sure if it would fit in with the 'modern' woman that existed in this time, but at least it would like presentable. A quick look in the mirror confirmed she looked much better than she had been when she started, and Hermione made her way to putting the tent away.

Standing outside, she put the collapsed shrunken tent into her beaded bag, and sat on a nearby stump to work out think of a charm for her beaded bag. She could only think of the wards she had placed around her tent, so decided that a muggle-repelling charm and a modified _cave inimicum, _hoping it would work. Hermione reached in to make sure she still had access to her bag, but she wouldn't know until someone else tried to rummage through it. Content with what she had for now, Hermione stood up and made her took down her protection wards from the area before apparating back to Diagon Alley.

From only sounds of birds singing to the bustling street of Diagon Alley, Hermione nearly had to cover her ears with the rush of sound. But she was on a mission, and she hoped it would all work out for her. Looking at the crowd, she paced her entrance into the crowd and made her way over to the the small tea shop she had gone into earlier, smiling as the same small girl was working.

"Morning ma'am. What can I get for you?" The blonde girl smiled in return to Hermione's as she made her way up to the counter.

"Good morning. I was hoping to have two crumpets and a cup of tea?" Hermione reached in to her beaded bag, finding the coins she would need to pay, offering them to the blonde girl. "This may come off as silly, but may I ask what today is?" Hermione laid down the coins needed as the blonde girl was grabbed what had been requested.

"It's Tuesday, ma'am. It's the seventh." The blonde girl came back with a cup of tea, a small bowl of sugar with a spoon, and two crumpets.

"Thank you. I've been traveling around and I keep letting the time slip by me." Hermione smiled, adding a small amount of sugar to her cup. She was about to ask about milk, but she realized the blonde girl may remember her and what her order has been. Another quick smile and Hermione made her way over to the table she had sat at before. The blonde girl walked over and offered Hermione the daily prophet while she was in.

"It's my copy, but you can read it while you're here. Let me know if there is anything else you need." As quickly as she had come, the blonde girl dashed back to behind the counter to wait for the next customer to come in.

Hermione just sipped her tea and took to gathering as much information from the Prophet as possible. At least she hadn't been sleeping for three days this time; now she had kept it to two. She wondered, briefly, it it was just her body's way of trying to catch up on needed rest. She took on reading a small article on the front page about new plants being used in healing potions before seeing if there had been any useful for her; but just like in her time, she was sure the Prophet wouldn't post anything that was actually going on in the current issues. How much of Grindelwald was being swept under the rug? And would the tensions in the Muggle community make it's way into the Wizarding one?

Flipping the page, she spotted another article; one that actually _did_ catch her attention. _'Tensions Rise with America; What is MACUSA hiding?'._ Hermione's eyebrows rose for a moment, skimming through the article. This _did_ have something to do with Grindelwald, though; mainly the blame that seemed to be going on back and forth since he had escaped. As she read a little more into the article, Hermione realized maybe picking being an American student hadn't been the best cover. Which could explain why Mr. Sawson had jumped at the opportunity to get her questioned. Did the think she was here spying on what was going on? Another drink of her tea and a bite of her crumpet had her finishing the article, which she wished she hadn't. It seemed that whoever wrote this article was solely focused on the idea that America had staged the entire thing and had helped Grindelwald escape. Which only made Hermione snort under her breath. Using her own timeline as reference, she would assume that Grindelwald had help in each Ministry he fell under. She remembered reading that he was gifted with the art of persuasion. If he wanted someone to follow him, he would figure out how. Unfortunately, it seemed like this was a common trait for dark wizards, because she was certain Voldemort had the same gift. Another shrug, and she gently folded up the prophet, placing it on the table in front of her.

Hermione simply sat, looking out the window and enjoying her crumpets and briefly taking in each customer as they came and left; not one sitting and staying as she was. As much as she wanted to sit here and take all day with some tea and crumpets, she knew she couldn't. She was going to have to muster up all her Gryffindor courage and face the Ministry once more. Finishing the last of her tea, she placed her stuff together before the blonde girl had come over to collect everything. Hermione thanked her and made her way to the door and managed to collide directly into someone, nearly falling backwards onto her backside.

"You need to look where you are going, Miss." The voice was gruff and angered and Hermione instantly recognized who she was speaking to. Her brown eyes looked up and the sour man, Auror Shafiq, her interrogator. He huffed in annoyance before it looked like he recognized who she was as well. "Well, if it isn't our little American girl...Potter was it?" Hermione was briefly shocked that she was remembered so quickly, but maybe they just didn't have that many 'Americans' running around here at the moment.

"Yes, sir. It was Auror Shafiq, correct?" Hermione bit her cheek to keep herself calm; though their meeting was brief, she still can't say it was very pleasant.

"Oh, yes, I forgot he mentioned my name to you. Usually he's not supposed to, but even he can slip up from time to time." Hermione noticed that his breath still didn't smell very good, but took in he much more roguish appearance. She wondered if he cared at all how his appearance looked; now that he was in clear light, he didn't look any cleaner than Hermione had pictured she had looked in the interrogation. He was older with a few across his face and exposed neck scars, short dark hair that looked as if it had started to mat, and dark eyes that gleamed in the light. The way he carried himself reminded her of Moody; and she wondered if maybe just the 'best' Aurors just had a certain look to them. Battle-worn and intimidating. Hermione nodded to him as he walked around her, not intimidating the blonde girl at all. In fact, she had smiled before getting items together before he had ordered anything. Maybe he was a regular customer as well. "I'm surprised you haven't gone off into the woods to chase after you little creatures yet." Hermione looked back up at him, looking at the cup of what looked like cream rather than tea and about seven crumpets. He simply smirked to himself and made his way over to a table.

"I was actually heading back to the Ministry; needed to speak to someone." Hermione had walked over to his table, watching him for a moment. Before she had a chance to turn to leave, Auror Shafiq motioned for her to sit.

"Hey Sal, get the misses a cup of tea, would you?" The blonde girl nodded before Hermione could protest. "Sit down, sit down. It _is_ in my interest if you suddenly need to get back to the Ministry." Hermione crossed her arms and really thought about leaving, but her cup of tea and a small bowl of sugar was levitated over; and she didn't want to waste it, so she sat down.

"Thank you, ma'am." Hermione smiled before turning back to her cup of tea, making it the way she liked. "And thank you for the cup of tea, sir." He grunted for a moment, before taking a rather large bite of his crumpet, reminding Hermione of Ron. And she wasn't sure if she should be endeared or grossed out about that.

"So what makes you need to head back to the Ministry, Miss Potter?" At least he didn't talk with food in his mouth. But Hermione wasn't sure how she needed to answer this. A small part of her wanted to be honest with him, but she barely knew the Auror. Plus she wasn't sure if he was _really_ with the Ministry, or if it had been only the other gentleman she needed to worry about. The rest of her was struggling to come up with a solid cover as to what she needed.  
She must have taken too long in her thoughts, because she _felt_ the charm go up around her. It wasn't the muffliato charm she was used to working with, but she knew a charm to keep others from listening when she felt it. Her brown eyes stared at Auror, as he seemed to casually still be eating. But maybe that was for appearance sake. "Should I be worried?" His voice sounded deadly calm, and it was beyond eerie.

"If you're asking if I am with Grindelwald, the answer is no." Hermione kept her chin up in defiance as she felt him eye her. Her took her cup of tea in her hands and sipped gingerly. "I'm just not sure you're the person I need to ask my questions to." She watched him continue to eat another crumpet before he drank half of his tea.

"Now listen carefully, miss." His voice still remained deadly calm. "Times are difficult right now. Everyone, and I do mean _everyone, _is under questioning even if you are proven safe beyond all doubt. And you have been loud and obstinate since you first came to the Ministry. While you may think walking around with a terrible poker face, yelling your views on this war, but no one is to be trusted. So I am afraid until I know _why_ you want to go to the Ministry, I can not allow you to enter. Hermione held her cup to her lips, still staring at the Auror. And it dawned on Hermione. Why he had been concerned with his name being mentioned. He wasn't an Auror; well not fully. He had to have been an Unspeakable. No one was supposed to know what he did at his job or what his job title was. By calling him an Auror covered up why he was in the room. She had claimed to be an American; and with all this tension right now, she was sure she was going to be constantly followed.

"I am not a threat to the Ministry, sir." Hermione kept her hands tightly on her cup but refusing to move her eyes away from his. "Something happened to me just before I went into Lochwinnoch, but not related to the events that seemed to happen with Grindelwald's followers." Hermione sipped her tea as the Auror ate his crumpets. While she knew Miss Sal, as Auror Shafiq had called her, could not hear her, he was trying to make it seemed like the were not doing anything out of the ordinary. She had to act as if they were just having quiet conversation over tea, nothing more. "I was looking for help with my situation, and as I said before, I'm not sure you are who I need to speak to."

"Are you aware, Miss Potter, that is is a crime to lie under veritaserum to Ministry employees?" His voice was still deadly calm, but Hermione was getting used to it.

"Are you aware, sir, that if one isn't given enough veritaserum, I can not be penalized under law?" Hermione braved looking at the Auror, watching a look come over his eyes. "I didn't lie to cover up a connection to Grindelwald, sir. I only kept certain parts of my history covered because I am not sure who I can trust with my information."

"Miss Potter, how are you aware that you were not given enough veritaserum?" Hermione now could understand what it felt like to feel someone else's magic. She was told her hair sparked when she was angry enough, but she saw no outward signs of his magic. And she figured lying wasn't the best idea at the moment.

"A friend of mine, he was in the room of an interrogation when he was younger. He told me that the Potion's master distinctly said three drops of veritaserum would be effective." Another sip of tea with both calmed her nerves and kept up the act. "I only felt one drop, sir."


	10. Chapter 10

Hermiones hands stayed firm onto her cup of tea as she watched this information seem to process across the Aurors' face. Honestly, she wasn't sure which bothered her more; how calm he seemed to be or how calm she was. She just openly admitted that she could have easily lied to him about herself. Which she had, but it wasn't because she was trying to take over the government. No, she just hadn't been sure who to trust. Had her anger at the situation in her interrogation let the Auror been enough, truly, to convince him that she was being truthful? Or had he just assumed she had been given enough serum that she was unable to tell a lie. Judging from the look on his face, it had to be the latter. But he had just stated that no one could truly be trusted. Her brown eyes watched as he finished his crumpet, slowly, then took to sipping his tea. Hermione wasn't sure all of what was going on in his mind at the moment, but she wasn't going to let up the facade if he wasn't.

"If you were aware that you had not been given the correct dose of veritaserum, why did you fail to bring it up during the interrogation?" As he spoke, Hermione could feel the ice in his tone and it sent a shiver down her spine. He clearly was meant to be the scare-tactic in a confrontation.

"I think that's rather obvious, sir." Hermione took a sip her own tea, she placed the cup down before looking back at him. "I was forcefully taken from one place to another, unconscious mind you, then was force-fed a potion and interrogated. It was stated that you were an Auror; would you have told your unknown captors that you hadn't been given enough truth serum if you were in my situation?" Her brown eyes caught his eyes once more before he took a bite of his crumpet, nearly swallowing the whole thing in one motion.

"I see your point, Miss Potter." He placed the last piece of his crumpet in his mouth before looking out the windows. Hermione could watched Auror Shafiq as he continued to eat his crumpet, his facial expressions not once giving up what he was thinking. "Unfortunately, Miss Potter, you are still admitting lying in an interrogation to an Auror..."

"But you're not an Auror, sir." Hermione had to sit her cup down with the look she received from him. "Neither one of you identified yourselves in my interrogation; then you seemed caught off guard that I _did_ know your name. Or, at least, had a name to call you. I'm not entirely sure Shafiq is your real name."

"What makes you think that not stating our names would _not_ make us Auror's, Miss Potter?" His icy tone had remained in place as had his glare.

"I've read the Daily Prophet," Hermione nodded her head over to Miss Sal, who was quietly helping another customer. "And I'm realizing that being American, or simply stating that I've come from America, has put a rather large target on me." She finally lifted her cup to her lips again, but couldn't get herself to take a sip. "I know what a paranoid government looks like, sir. I also know that this Ministry will do whatever _it_ feels is necessary for the safety of itself. A random American showing up during high tensions on who's fault it is for the release of Grindelwald, coming off as suspicious in a non-magically populated area, and then staying around afterward; I either come off as incredibly stupid for not just leaving or highly dedicated to whatever my position in this fight is. It just doesn't seem like only Aurors would be brought in to 'handle the situation'." Hermione lowered her cup, again, and gently clasped her hands behind the cup.

"Terribly perceptive, aren't you Miss Potter?" The Auror sat back and simply looked at Hermione.

"I believe it is one of my strengths, yes. Though it sometimes gets me in far more trouble than its worth." Hermione took to looking at her hands for a moment. She had to admit to herself that while she was excellent at gaining and retaining knowledge, she could be terrible when it came to actually using it. More specifically when it came to using it to interact with others. But she couldn't focus on that now. Looking back at the Auror, she took a deep breath.

"It is a useful thing to have in your repertoire." The Auror's voice had lost some of the icy tone. "But you lack the skills on how to use it to your advantage. But we need to discuss the lack of a proper interrogation for you." He grabbed another one of his crumpets and nearly ate it in one bite. At least he waited to talk until after his mouth was empty.

"Sir, I can tell you with every fiber of my being that I would never align myself with Grindelwald. I would rather face death itself than follow that madman. Or any others like him." Hermione quickly grabbed her cup, trying to prevent herself from fidgeting or allowing the tears in her eyes to do more than blur her vision. She was about to continue when she watched the Auror stand up grab his last crumpet, and motion for her to follow him. She gripped her cup tighter, trying to come up up with a verbal refusal to him.

"Miss Potter, we can not continue this discussion here. I have a reputation to uphold, and it is not one to daintily have tea in a tea shop and have conversations." He once again motion for Hermione to stand up. "I would rather not have to forcefully remove you from here, but I can if I have to." Hermione flashed her eyes over to him, blurry vision not hiding silent frustration. She held on to her cup for a moment, seriously considering just sitting there. But she wasn't sure she would manage to hold her own before he'd have her back down. She hadn't had time to react to the silencing charm. Grudgingly, she stood up, finishing the last of her tea before quietly following behind him.

As the made their way outside, Hermione thought on how quickly she could apparate before he would be able to follow her. Would she be able to set up all her charms before he'd have a team of Aurors ready to take her down. And would fleeing really help her case? She couldn't stop herself from rubbing her fingers into her temple or from biting her lip. But she blindly followed, because some part of her wanted this to be okay. That _she_ wouldn't end up bound in a chair again. And the question is, would they even believe her, even with the use of veritaserum? Her brown eyes finally focused on Auror Shafiq once again, watching him walk over to the very apparation point she had used to this morning.

"Come on, then, would you?" His voice was gruff and didn't hold the icy tone it had before. And here was Hermione, again, wondering if she should allow herself to be pulled into an unknown situation. Looking down at his offered arm, she could take in some good that he didn't seem to be dragging her or simply stunning her; but the ability to choose was far more unsettling. Blinking a few times and releasing a breath she didn't know she had been holding, she reached out and took his offered arm. Before she had time to settle herself, she was feeling the pull of apparation, hoping she was prepared for whatever she was going in to.


End file.
